


The Empress' Wish

by farevenasdecidedtouse



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Adultery, F/F, Hatesex, Rough Sex, Slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24313123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farevenasdecidedtouse/pseuds/farevenasdecidedtouse
Summary: Some things change. Others do not.
Relationships: Csethiro Ceredin/Csoru Drazharan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10
Collections: The Goblin Emperor Filthfest 2020





	The Empress' Wish

Csoru’s mouth drew wider to take the greater part of the soft, fleshy petals between Csethiro's legs into her mouth, and Csethiro caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Eager, ravenous, she spread her legs wider to allow Csoru’s mouth better purchase over her heated, twitching flesh. Csoru’s eyes were screwed tight with concentration, the finger-long strings of pearls she now insisted on wearing swaying gently with the eager working of her jaw, and Csethiro briefly toyed with the thought of ripping one free. She settled for tangling her fingers in the elaborate confection of curls and braids Csoru’s perfect new-snow hair had been caught into, held in place by a myriad of silver combs with rubies like blood drops. Her nails raked the tender scalp beneath and Csoru whined as she always did, raising a hand to trail a single claw-sharp red nail around and over the lips of Csethiro’s cunt.

Since their occasional “practice” kissing as michen when forced together by family expectations had gradually changed into hands beneath bodices and thigh rubbing groin through countless petticoats, locations for their trysts had invariably posed a problem. When the news of Csoru’s engagement had reached her, Csethiro had resigned herself to an end to the stolen moments in respective bedchambers or in hallways outside interminable salons. Only the memory of anger-sharpened pleasure would remain to warm her on nights in the narrow virgin’s bed in which she still slept. _For the best,_ she had told herself, the ache between her legs assuaged by the prospect of having nothing further to do with Csoru.

When she had received a summons from the new-minted Empress to take tea privately, Csethiro considered throwing the message into the fire. Upon further reflection she had wondered, promising herself five minutes to see what Csoru actually desired of her. Her suspicions were confirmed when Csoru had pinned her against the door of the otherwise-empty Empress’s tea room. _He doesn’t pay me any mind. Our wedding night was over faster than_ _might’st_ _believe,_ _and he hasn’t touched me since_ _,_ she had complained, rubbing herself like a cat against Csethiro as her hands fumbled with the countless jet buttons of her bodice. _Thou couldst come to me in the marriage bed and he would roll over and fall asleep. I’m near to mad with only my hands. Csethiro, please._

All too aware of Varanechibel IV’s touchy pride from her own family’s dealings with him, Csethiro had drawn the line at the marriage bed. This did not stop her from all too eagerly hiking up her skirts to mount Csoru over the hideous daffodil-embroidered divan, lower lips kissing and wetly sucking Csoru's for climax upon desperate climax as the tea cooled in its urn. Since then Csethiro had insisted upon meeting in the Ceredada apartments at odd hours when even the Empress would not be missed, the handful of times they had managed such trysts all the more arousing for their illicit rarity.

Csoru’s rhythmic, frantic sucking was driving Csethiro to distraction, particularly as Csoru’s tongue drew a long, wet trail between her lower lips to fuck its way into her cunt. With this Csethiro finally climaxed with no sound but with a tensing of her body that felt liable to break a bone, or her mind. The waves crashed, surged, ebbed, until she was in herself once more, her pulse and breath the loudest noise in her ears. Resisting the temptation to slide down the wall where she stood, she instead drew Csoru to her feet by her disheveled hair. “Over the bed,” she said, voice still pitched low at the thought of a servant (or, worse, a family member) lingering anywhere nearby in the cramped handful of rooms to which the Ceredada had been relegated since even before Arbelan’s disgrace.

Csoru, wiping around her mouth in a manner that only made the smearing of her maquillage worse, sat down at the side of the bed, lying back across it with her legs dangling over the side. She had not bothered to unlace her bodice or corset and Csethiro took the time to liberate Csoru’s small, full breasts, cupping them greedily in her hands. She ran her nails lightly over the undersides before trailing her tongue over a single rose nipple, sucking the whole of the accompanying breast into her mouth with a satisfied huff as Csoru cried out at the pressure.

“Wilt do something?” Csoru snapped, fingers curling in the covers around her as she spread her legs wider.

“Wanton as ever.” Csethiro drew back to retrieve a small ottoman from near the shuttered window, placing it beside the bed to allow her access which would not involve the humiliation of kneeling. (An empress's due, perhaps, but not Csoru's.) She reached forward as if to stroke between Csoru’s legs only to sharply slap the mound of Csoru’s sex with her open palm. Csoru bit off an indignant squeal before canting her hips up even as her face contorted with pain, and Csethiro began to lay a trail of light, sharp blows over the greedy heat of Csoru’s red-flushed cunt.

“Dost imagine me doing this before His Imperial Serenity?” she continued, toying with Csoru’s tender, exposed bud before renewing the assault of her hand. “Letting him see the hungry slattern hast ever been? Perhaps rousing his blood enough for him to finally fuck thee as thou desirest?”

“Thou filthy bitch,” Csoru hissed, her voice dissolving into a groan as Csethiro drew two fingers over the tiny swell of flesh between Csoru’s throbbing, smarting lips.

Csethiro ignored the words, pressing on until Csoru bucked under her hands and buried her face in a pillow before spending herself with a thin, broken cry born of as much pain as pleasure. Breathing near as heavily as Csoru, Csethiro sat back onto the ottoman with grim satisfaction as Csoru slowly recovered her faculties.

“Now clean thyself and return before thy husband misses thee,” Csethiro finally instructed.

Csoru sneered, pulling her skirts back over her still-twitching sex. “Wilt not embrace me in the afterglow? I had taken thee for a solicitous lover.”

“I daresay I have _solicited_ less from thee than the reverse.” Csethiro turned to her washing table, adjusting her own clothing and hair in the small mirror. “Why dost not find thyself a maid or lady-in-waiting who will service thee? ‘Twould surely be simpler than slinking across the whole of court.”

“And have a peasant wench with no status to lose gossip to her friends about the Empress’s perversions?” Csoru rose to her feet, her dignity somewhat marred by the smearing of her kohl and lip paint. “Thou might'st be as disagreeable as hast ever been, but I know full well thou wouldst never risk thy family's name. Or thine own with thy newfound _intellectual_ bosom bows.”

Csethiro remained silent. Eventually, she heard Csoru splash some water on her face and leave, but still she sat, glaring all the answers she wished she might have given into her chamber wall.

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